


Sharing Clint

by Remember When (scribblemyname)



Category: Avengers: Age of Ultron - Fandom
Genre: Ballet, Child Soldier Backstory, Dog Cops, First Time, Friendship, Multi, Polaymory, Threesome - F/F/M, school au, study dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5687203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/pseuds/Remember%20When
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha gets first kiss, so Laura goes after first date with a kiss on the side. Clint's stuck in the middle and not entirely sure what's going on, especially since he knows for a fact that Laura and Natasha are best friends and haven't had a falling out since they met him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Clint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andibeth82](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andibeth82/gifts).



Natasha Romanoff—last name inaccurate for reasons known only to herself—glanced up briefly from her textbook when her roommate, Laura, dropped a lunch tray on the caf table beside her, but otherwise continued to focus on her history paper. Ballet left little time for ignoring her other studies in favor of socialization, and it had already become a comfortable fact between them that it wasn't personal.

Which was what made her sit up and notice when Laura said something outrageous along the opposite lines.

"You need to do something fun, or take a break," Laura informed her matter-of-factly. "You were talking in your sleep last night."

Natasha balked. "I do not talk in my sleep." She shook her pencil at Laura as though it were an admonishing finger. There were good reasons for the lack of that bad habit, and she doubted all her training would have gone by the wayside just yet.

Laura smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You had a dream last night that you turned in your paper late."

Natasha just shot her a dirty look, then went back to work. Then paused and watched as more students filed into caf.

Laura watched shamelessly beside her. "And that guy is?"

"Which one?"

"The cute one." Laura definitely had her eyes fixed on one in particular.

"He's in gym with me," Natasha answered, eyes also pretty fixed on that one in particular. "He's an archer. Practices gymnastics. Flexible."

"Mmm." Laura considered that with a thoughtful head tilt. "He's the nicest thing I've seen since we got here. I think I have a class with him."

They watched him together for a moment, then shared a moment of surprise when he turned toward their table, squinted for a brief second, then smiled and came toward them.

"I wonder which one he's here to see," Natasha murmured, noting correctly that despite being roommates, the two of them largely did not share skillsets or reputation.

"Hi, I'm Clint," he said as he came to a stop. "Are you the Laura the history professor recommended for history help?"

Despite Natasha's history book, he was looking at the right girl, and Laura nodded, still a little surprised.

"Yeah, sure. Why don't you join us?" She recovered herself mid-sentence and managed to smile warmly by the end, a skill that made Natasha a little proud more for its sincerity than the simple ability.

Laura gestured at Natasha. "This is my roommate, Natasha."

"I know who you are," Clint said with a grin as he leaned back in his chair.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"You're the best dancer out there."

Maybe it was perfectly natural that she could hardly wipe the smile off her face.

* * *

They left the cafeteria, then let him part ways heading down the hallway as they stared after him from around the corner. They were both girls and shameless.

Laura studied Natasha for a moment, then grinned. "You like him."

 _"You_ like him," Natasha countered. After another moment, "We can both like him."

Laura frowned, turned back to the view. "You think that would weird him out?"

Natasha looked around the corner, and they watch his departing back together. "No."

"Bet I can get the first snuggle."

"Shameless cuddler." Natasha wrinkled her nose. "You can have it."

* * *

"I am so bad at this," Clint said with a groan about twenty minutes in.

"You're doing good," Laura countered, catching the pencil he'd tossed aside.

He blinked, gave her an assessing look when she handed it back.

She blushed a little under the scrutiny. "Okay, you're not, but positive reinforcement is generally helpful."

"That is so not helpful," Clint griped back at her, but his eyes immediately went off track from her face again as he followed Natasha's path from the dorm room kitchenette to the couch.

She curled upon one end with her cup of tea and bowl of soup and turned on the TV to…

"Oh, no!" he protested. "You cannot watch Dog Cops while I'm trying to study. Episode twenty? Spoilers, no!"

"You watch Dog Cops?" Laura asked, mixed consternation and delight.

"It's Laura's guilty pleasure," Natasha added. "She got me hooked on it."

"I don't want to hear it," Laura protested, "miss let's marathon So You Think You Can Dance so you can critique it."

Natasha didn't quite blush, but Clint could see she was caught out on that one. "I'm a dancer. It's professional appreciation."

"Yeah, sure." Laura waved toward the TV. "So how about you watch dance so Clint can focus and"—she turned to Clint—"we could watch Dog Cops afterward?"

He glanced toward Natasha.

She smiled. "Not a bad idea."

"Sure."

* * *

The Dog Cops watching became a thing.

"I can't believe you'd say that!" Clint protested Natasha's latest criticism. "He's a good cop!"

"If he was a good cop—"

"That's enough," Laura interrupted and dropped down next to Clint, curling up against his shoulder and the second popcorn bowl.

"I'm buried in girls," Clint commented suddenly, blinking at the two of them.

Natasha gave him an indulgently amused smile.

"Like you're complaining," Laura shot back.

He hmphed, then settled his arm around her and held her a little closer.

Laura caught Natasha's eye. _'First snuggle,'_ she mouthed.

Natasha's eyebrow came up. Challenge accepted.

* * *

Natasha had a plan for everything, to let Clint fall in love with Laura while she enjoyed belonging to them both for just a little longer before they left her entirely behind. But then Clint had to go and be his stubborn self and change everything.

She was popping popcorn because Laura and Clint both considered TV without popcorn to be heresy, when Clint arrived with a stack of homework that all of them would benefit from doing together, initial tutoring aside. It was safe to say they were all friends by now.

"Laura's running late," Natasha called out into the living area.

Clint just nodded and dived onto the couch, face planted in the pillows.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Good day?"

Clint sat up and looked at her. "Is it a normal thing to ask students to write down essay stuff about their childhood?"

That was... surprising. She frowned. "Subject?"

"Psychology. I'm thinking of dropping the class," he commented feelingly.

She hesitated a moment. "I didn't have parents," she finally said quietly.

He shrugged it off, not uncaring, just eyes looking away, that _way_ of shrugging, small, hunched shoulders. "Wish I didn't."

"You might be surprised," she countered, the violent turn that had taken heavy on her mind.

Clint met her gaze, open and unmoving, something familiar lurking in the depths of his eyes. "I wouldn't."

It startled her. She stared back. She had never seen that look before on an American, someone who hadn't been with her there in the trenches. It struck something inside her and made her want to keep it and whatever they could be.

Right then, the door opened and Laura breezed in, breathing apologies. "You didn't start without me, did you?" She glanced between them.

Clint smiled at her, slightly softer look he always got for Laura, and shook his head. "Popcorn's up."

Natasha sniffed and handed him the bowl.

* * *

Clint watched Natasha dance, and it was as mesmerizing as ever. All the feeling she tucked away and kept off her face and out of her eyes came out in every movement of her body, in the line of an arabesque, in the precise grace of her flying steps acoss the mats.

He watched her as he practiced his own tumbles and moved to the beam. He caught Natasha's gaze as she watched him with interest. He hadn't always been inclined to perform. That had been drilled into him by Jacques and Buck, but they hadn't entirely removed the urge inside him to lay low and go unseen. He went with his training and used Natasha's presence to drive him into the showier, more difficult moves she'd probably like to see.

"Do you like it?" she asked when he dismounted.

He shrugged and grabbed a towel off the bleachers. "Do you?" He nodded toward the mats and another danseur practicing ballet.

She studied him for a long moment, shrugged, and returned to her bench to change shoes for street wear.

He followed and dropped down beside her when she seemed to approve of him staying.

She winced when she pulled off the pointe shoes and carefully began to switch out bandages.

He put a hand on the fresh ones and looked a question at her.

She studied him, face impassive, then nodded.

He bent down and went to work, knowing from his own experience the price one paid to be as good as she was. "This is why I always skipped ballet."

She smiled, thankfully unoffended. Then she reached and took his face in her hands and kissed him, startling him good. She kissed heated and intent with an amount of feeling he had never imagined, then pulled away and studied him with that unreadble gaze for another long moment.

He had no idea what to say or how to respond.

She smiled softly, mouth curving upward, pleased and maybe faintly amused. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she grabbed her bag and headed out before he could even recover.

Clint stared after her for a while after she was gone.

* * *

Natasha came and plopped down beside Laura on the bed with a small grin. “First kiss.”

Laura’s mouth fell open a little bit as history homework suddenly became thoroughly unimportant. “You did not.”

Natasha’s smile simply curved further upward and her eyes danced mischievously. “You’ll like his kisses.”

Laura growled inarticulately. “I am so one-upping you next chance I get on this.”

“I’m counting on it,” Natasha countered. “What are you working on?” She leaned in to view Laura’s textbook.

"Details," Laura demanded. "I need details."

Under normal circumstances, Laura loved Natasha's dimples whenever they rarely made an appearance. Right now, she found them infuriating, at least until Natasha started talking.

"He was too surprised to do much kissing back, but you feel like his attention is on you the entire time and nothing else. Afterward, he looked a little in awe, like he'd never seen me like that."

Awe. Everyone was a little in awe of Natasha. Laura sighed. "Too bad he'll never look at me like that."

Natasha looked at her for a long moment, one of her blanker, more serious expressions. "You just can't see his face when you're cuddled against his shoulder."

She couldn't, and… Laura blushed a little, dropped her head, and pretended to start reading her textbook again.

This was _Natasha_ though, and she wasn't fooled a bit. Her graceful fingers reached out and tucked Laura's hair gently behind her ear, then she leaned in and kissed the side of Laura's head. "I'm going to take a shower."

* * *

"A study _date?"_ He squinted at her as if unsure whether he should be suspicious.

Laura smiled. "A _study_ date. I just want out of the room." She gathered up her books in her arms as Clint stared at her, looking as skeptical as he had before the correction. Behind him, she could see Natasha sending her that infuriating smirk, pencil moving over homework as if it actually required her attention.

"Come on." Laura looped her arm through Clint's and drew him out through the door. He was that kind of friend. You could lead him to water.

* * *

It was fun. They laughed, and she tried his favorite pizza only to shoot him a horrified look at the amount of grease and fat.

"It won't hurt you," he protested. "So… What's a present participle again?" he asked with a perfectly straight face that wasn't at _all_ suspicious.

"Stop teasing me!"

Clint shrugged, grin unmoved. "You're easy to tease. So you and Natasha. You're best friends, right?"

Laura wasn't entirely sure what prompted the question, but she nodded eagerly enough. "She never really had family, and I missed mine so much. We sort of just became like family to make up the difference."

He was listening so intently, it made her want to blush under the scrutiny.

"What about you?" she said softly. "Do you have family?"

"Not really." He shrugged. "A brother. Wherever he is." There was pain in his voice, much as he tried to hide it under a straight tone and a tight smile.

She leaned her head on his shoulder.

He tensed for just a second, then like always, brought his arm up around to hold her.

* * *

Clint wondered whether he should bring it up, the kiss with Natasha, with either of them. As they walked down the hallway, Laura seemed so comfortable and friendly as usual and— He had no idea what he was doing.

He rubbed the back of his neck when they got to the door, unsure of even how to say goodnight.

Her hand hesitated a moment on the handle. She turned around and kissed him quick and sweet, and as startlingly warm as Natasha's had been. It was just as good, made just as many feelings churn up in his gut that he didn't know what to do with.

She whirled and went in the door before he could gather his thoughts again. "Goodnight," she said softly as it closed.

He let his head fall back and thunk against the opposite wall of the hall. Great. Just great.

* * *

Laura leaned back against the door, heart pounding in her chest, the startled wondering look in his eyes before she turned around still playing in her head.

Natasha raised an eyebrow in question.

I see what you mean, Laura thought about saying, but she didn't. She shook her head and went to hug Natasha, who just shook her head back.  
"I told you," she said, smug smile in her voice.

"Juvenile," Laura griped. She dropped down on the bed and tried to contain the slightly giddy feeling inside her. "Though I suppose you'll one up that too," she said fondly.

Natasha looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. "I don't want to compete on sex."

That startled Laura.

"He'd marry you, you know," Natasha went on. "Eventually. I'm not made for marriage."

"No," Laura started protesting before Natasha could even finish. "He gets different things from both of us." She got up to wrap her arms around Natasha in a close hug. "He needs both of us."

"No. We're the same," Natasha countered. "You're like his steadiness and I'm like his brokenness. He doesn't need that."

"You aren't broken," Laura said, willing her belief into Natasha. Natasha wasn't the only one in this relationship that could be stubborn and stand her ground.

"I was a child soldier," Natasha answered, eyes hurt as she forced herself to say the words.

Laura knew that, knew Natasha's story, but she also knew what kind of a woman Natasha had become, scraping her own identity together out of what bits and pieces were left after her childhood.

"You're not broken, Natasha." She drew Natasha closer, whispered, desperation in her tone, the line of her flesh. "You're not broken." She didn't say, You're mine, but she thought it. She meant it.

She held on for a long time, almost surprised when Natasha curled her arms around Laura and held on back.

* * *

"So why ballet?" he asked a few days later.

Natasha bit back her surprise, rolled her body into the form she wanted and considered. "I used to fight."

Clint watched her do her cooldown stretches, face scrunched up as he studied her. "What kind of fighting?"

Natasha shrugged, not willing yet to discuss it further. "The training was difficult and constant. Pain grounds me."

"Huh." He looked out toward the targets at the end of the gym. "I can understand that."

"Can you?" She stood and came closer, done with her post-workout routine. She wasn't sure what she expected, but it wasn't more vulnerability than she had shown him.

Clint looked at her for a long moment, then stripped off his shirt, and showed her his back. It was riddled with scars, the kind that were faint with age and all too familiar to her. She swallowed as his words about parents fell into their place in her understanding, and something clenched inside her. She wanted to touch him, and after a long moment, she did.

She leaned forward and kissed the most noticeable scar running under his left shoulder blade. She felt him tense beneath the touch as she drew away.

"Tasha…" he said, voice rough and soft, protest and plea wrapped up into one.

"Clint," she said softly back as she dropped her head at an angle to see his face.

So many conflicting emotions warred on his face, like he had no idea what to do with her action.

It was better than other possibilities. She decided to let it go, move away as she always did from these moments with him. "Are you still coming by later?" she asked as she grabbed her gym bag and looked at him.

His face had closed off, but he was still staring at her, like he couldn't quite tear his eyes away. "Yeah."

Laura would be fine then. That mattered to Natasha. She nodded and headed out ahead of him.

* * *

"Got his shirt off," Natasha commented airily as she settled in beside Laura at the desk, head leaning over so her hair tickled Laura's cheek.

Laura gave her a good side-eye. "Context?"

"It wasn't planned." Natasha shrugged and dropped down to sit on the wood.

Laura sighed. Dragging details out of Natasha was often painfully impossible. "As good as his arms?"

Natasha's mouth quirked upward in a faint, amused smile. "Better."

Natasha definitely kept getting the good stuff, Laura huffed to herself.

* * *

Clint arrived right on time as always, five minutes before the show was supposed to come on. Never mind the original plan had been to study beforehand and use it as a reward. That plan had lasted all of one viewing.

He dropped his books off on Natasha's perennially underused desk and flopped out on his back on the bed. "You two are driving me crazy."

Natasha and Laura gave each other long looks, and he could swear he could see their thoughts passing between them and neither looked surprised. At all.

"And I think you both know it," he said softly, half statement, half accusation.

That brought a hesitant glance from Laura, but Natasha just tugged Laura over and sat on the bed beside him.

She leaned over and kissed him warm and unreserved. He almost put a hand up to stop her, but then he felt Laura leaning against him on the other side as suddenly she joined in, making an impossible sweet three-way kiss.

They pulled away, looking at him with the same expression they'd had on their faces when they were looking at each other. What are you going to do with this?

He stared at them. He had no idea what to do with it, what they meant. He looked between them. This wasn't how he figured these things went when you liked two people. You were supposed to pick.

Laura decided he'd had time enough to think and leaned in impatiently to kiss him again. He caught her waist with his hand, felt her body against his, and tried to swallow down his reaction. Then there was Natasha again, mouth hot against both of theirs, and he didn't care anymore, just reached blindly, kissed fiercely, held on for dear life.

He had Laura's shirt off and was going for Natasha's when Natasha commented, "I think we both scored."

He stopped and stared at her, incredulous. "You were betting on it?" Something stung about that, but Laura shook her head.

"Competing. Natasha likes to compete."

Natasha ran her fingers gently over his forehead, then tucked it into his hair. "We want to keep you. Forever."

Laura kissed his neck, making it hard to think, soft lips, warm touch under his shirt. "Say yes."

* * *

Clint lifted his head and looked at her for a long moment with that open vulnerable gaze that always took Laura aback and made her a little breathless. He wrapped his hand around her neck and kissed her. This wasn't like the quick, breathless kisses or the warm but surprised kisses they'd had earlier, mostly initiated by her or Natasha. This one warmed her right to her center and made her whimper.

It was Natasha that broke them apart, yanking Clint's shirt over his head and she hadn't exaggerated when she told Laura his body was more beautiful than even the promise of his bare arms. She wrapped herself around him, skin against skin, and ran her hands over his back as he kissed Natasha's neck and drew a tight gasp out of Natasha.

Scars. Laura knew there was pain behind so many of the small things he'd implied but she hadn't expected...

She leaned over his shoulder and kissed one. She heard as much as felt the sound wrung out of Clint's throat. He leaned back into her touch and then he rolled over, dragging Natasha down underneath to lift her hips and slide her jeans down.

Laura caught the bottom and finished pulling them off. She came up to stare at the way Natasha pushed her head back into the pillow, neck arching prettily, such open vulnerability in her stare as Clint cradled her as though she were something precious.

She'd never told him Natasha couldn't always take that, believing she wasn't broken beyond loving. She reached out and caught Natasha's head with her own hand, whispering soothing sounds and then losing her breath altogether as Clint's mouth found hers again.

She couldn't say how they made it work. It was all a blur of hands sliding between each other's legs, pants and gasps against shoulders and skin, mouths following every arc of flesh, lost in their own rhythm.

Clint got his fingers deep inside Natasha's body and pressed his mouth to Laura's core. She gasped at the sensation, arching up off the bed. She came curled around Clint, her hand holding Natasha's so hard it had to hurt. The only reason she didn't feel bad was because Natasha was holding hers just as hard.

* * *

Morning brought Laura's alarm clock to life, and she blinked her eyes at how quickly the annoying sound went away. She was warm, snug against Clint's side. She looked up to see Natasha, still naked, sitting up and leaning against the headboard.

In Laura's bed. It had really happened.

"Hey," Natasha greeted, low murmur. Her fingers were stroking softly over Clint's and her hair, and her eyes were soft with fondness.

"Hey," Laura answered just as softly. She was far too comfortable to want to move, still a little surprised at everything.

Natasha glanced around their room. Her morning restlessness was something Laura was well acquainted with. It didn't surprise her to see Natasha swing her legs out from under the covers.

Clint had seemed fairly sound asleep, but he reached quickly enough to startle Laura and caught Natasha's wrist gently as he raised his head.

"Tasha," he said, voice sleep rough and quiet.

Natasha stared at him for a long moment.

"Come back to bed," Laura agreed.

She did, curling down into Clint's arm as he drew her close against his chest and kissed the top of her hair. Laura wrapped her arm around Natasha's back and felt Clint's hand cover hers. It was peaceful. It was theirs.


End file.
